As I see it, life is an effort to grip before they slip through one's fingers and slide into oblivion, the startling, the ghastly or the blindingly ex...
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Each day we live is a glass roomUntil we break it with the thrustingOf the spirit and pass throughThe splintered walls to the green pasturesWhere the ...
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Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia.
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For death is life. It is only living that is lifeless.
